It's all a bunch of memories
by Snapetoldmeto
Summary: John struggles with the loss of Sherlock 6 months after the fall.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes: Sorry it's short. It's only chapter one. I plan to write longer ones soon.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

"Sherlock! No!"  
>John Watson bolted upright in the middle of Sherlock's bed. It had been six months. The longest six months John had ever experienced. Mrs Hudson peeped her head around the door.<br>"John, dear. Did you have the dream again?" She asked, her gentle smile turning into concern for the ex-army doctor lying in front of her. The therapy John had been getting didn't seem to be working.

"...Yeah." John replied, his face drooping and his eyes fixed on the bed sheet. Sherlock's bed sheet. It was so... Sherlock. He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes. His best friend-Sherlock Holmes- was dead. He had been for six months. Why did part of him still think that it was all part of some sick joke? He guessed it was bereavement, and ignored that thought nagging at the back of his head.

Mrs Hudson scuttled into the kitchen of 221B and returned with a cup of coffee, just as John liked it and set it down beside him. She joined him at the edge of Sherlock's bed and held out her arms for a hug, hoping to be of some comfort to the man. John graciously accepted all the comfort he could get nowadays. He returned Mrs Hudson's hug, sniffed and looked upwards in attempt to stop the tears from falling. Two years ago, he never would have imagined being this...lost after a friend's passing.

"Thanks," he mumbled as he nodded towards the coffee cup on the bedside table. Mrs. Hudson always knew how to cheer him up. Even if it was only temporary.

He rolled out of the right side of the bed, breaking the hug. After lifting the coffee, he slowly shuffled his way into the living room to turn on the 10 A.M news. He liked the news, it reminded him of how Sherlock watched it, eager to see if it held any vital clues to help solve a case. Of course, he liked it for the fact that he knew what was going on all over the world, too. Nothing of particular interest was shown, so John headed off to shower hoping it would raise his spirits a little more before going to visit Molly Hooper and Greg Lestrade for a lunch in the local pub.

It had been Molly's idea to invite John along to the meal. "We aren't dating." Was a phrase which had been tagged on to the invitation, which made John giggle like a schoolgirl. If Molly and Greg weren't considered a couple, then he didn't know what was. Especially as they had gotten a lot closer after Greg's divorce from his cheating wife.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Yay, the dinner scene. This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoy it!**

John Watson smiled as he spotted Molly and Greg laughing and chatting about 'how they were going to tell John'. I've known it all along, he thought as he quietly sat down beside Lestrade. Molly blushed and looked down at the bright red napkin on her table.

"John," Molly Hooper nodded, "welcome. Here's a menu." She glanced at Greg as she passed John the menu from the table and giggled. "Greg, I don't even need to ask. I know you'll be ordering steak, well done."

Greg Lestrade smirked. "You know me too well, Molls."

John looked from Greg to Molly, and back again. "Anything you would like to tell me? Anything at all?" He asked a question he already knew the answer to. Sherlock would have criticised him for doing that. He drummed his fingers along the table, waiting patiently to hear what marvellous way they had decided upon to tell him that they were a couple.

Molly coughed lightly, "Well... Greg and I. We, sort of... You know. Bonded. And our friendship turned into something more. Just thought you ought to know." The last six words were out in the same amount of time it normally took Molly to compose two.

Greg tried to explain more, but finally just agreed with a small 'yeah'.

John applauded them. "I'm really, genuinely happy for both of you! Who knew Sherlock Holmes would bring three average enough people together, first with friendships but then relationships? He really was the best man I've ever known, and probably the best I ever will."

Greg interrupted John's little speech about Sherlock with a confused "Erm, John..." But quickly decided against it when Molly shot him the darkest look John had ever seen.

"You two..." John began, with a confused look on his face. "Is there something else you have to tell me?" What had come over everyone lately? Any time he mentioned Sherlock, they acted as if they were another person.

His thoughts were interrupted when a pretty young waitress came to take their order. John had forgotten to read the menu in his sort-of-congratulation speech to the new couple, so he just ordered the same as Greg; even though he didn't particularly like steak. His eyed followed the waitress on her way back to the kitchen to place their order, and he had to stop himself from looking at her ass. _Great start to an evening out with friends, John._ He thought to himself, _checking out a waitress who probably has no interest in you whatsoever and has probably forgotten your face._

John felt his mobile phone vibrate three times, but chose to ignore it. That was what people did, yeah? Ignored texts and phone calls when out with friends? He looked at his two friends who were having immense, intense amounts of eye sex across the table at each other. It reminded him a little of how Sherlock described his behaviour around one of his exes.

The dinner was immaculate, the best food he had eaten in about six months. He sat working out how much to tip the waitress, as he thought Greg's suggestion of fifty pence was way too low. Trust a Detective Inspector to try and get the cheap way out of everything. Just before he was about to leave Molly and Lestrade to what he assumed would be post-dinner sexy times, he checked his phone and gasped at what it read.

_I'm back, let's have dinner or something and you can tell me all about the amazing Mr. Holmes. –IA_

John felt his face go pale, and quickly excused his company from his friends. Hailing a cab home, he rushed up the steps to 221 B and shut the door tightly behind him. This was happening too soon. Sherlock had said the programme she had been placed in would last a year at least. What had happened? Why was she back? John slid down the door and hid his head beneath his arms.


End file.
